You Leave Me Breathless
by Smirky's Shorts
Summary: This story contains character death, read at your own risk! Alfred Jones is a nurse, skilled as can be, and Arthur his unwilling patient. Though as time progresses, so does their relationship. Horrible summary, better story!


Working in a hospital is nothing like how they portray it in media. Instead of light humor and love triangles, you have people fighting for their lives while you try your damn best to make sure that their struggle isn't all for not. It's telling a family that grandma isn't going to be okay, that they'll never have that one special person in their lives again. No one tells you that it's going to be a breeze when they hand you that diploma, but nothing they say could prepare you for what you face on an every day basis behind those doors.

There are guidelines that you should follow while working in a hospital. The main one being to never, under any circumstances, let your heart get in the way of the care of a patient. I've made this mistake, and it cost the life of one of the kindest men I'd ever meet.

His name was Arthur. I'd say I can't remember what cost him his life, but I don't think I'll ever forget; it was me. He had a lower respiratory infection, but he could have been cured if I had had the ability to open my eyes and take in the scenery. I'd been fooling myself, thinking that he was more lively than ever. But someone full of life shouldn't struggle to take in a breath.

As a nurse, I was trained to take care of patients and help keep them alive. I'd been assigned to him to keep notes and watch over him, keep his lungs pumping. It was an easy job, so I took it in a heartbeat. But I hadn't thought of patient cooperation, which I hadn't had at first.

Arthur had been… well, let's just say he was a bit stubborn at first. The poor man was constantly trying to get up from his bed, using the same excuse every time: "If I hadn't wanted to look put windows, I would have checked myself into a prison instead."

But, after some poking and prodding, I'd found the truth behind his words. Arthur hadn't just wanted to catch a glimpse of the outside world, he was waiting for his family to show up. They'd promised him that they would visit him in the hospital, but none of them ever actually came. This trend continued up until Arthur's last day.

Crushed, I wanted to help this man. I wanted to give him someone to look forward to seeing every day, but I couldn't make his family come. So, I took the job. I came to see him every day I was working, this time being reserved as a break for me. We'd chat about our pasts, and hopes for the future. I'd talk about getting a dog, he'd insist that he was going to sail around the world. Both of us knew that he'd never manage such a task, even if he did regain full health.

But there was something else that was interesting about Arthur. Despite my failure to remember, we'd gone to the same school for most of our High school years. The man had been an exchange student a year ahead of me, which explained his funny accent. I wondered how he'd managed to keep it this long, but I knew better than to ask. But what baffled me the most was that through all those years, I'd never realized that he was there. Never in my life had I, Alfred Jones, given this magnificent man the time or day. While I was busy impressing the other guys and gals of my generation, thoughts of sitting down with this guy and having a long chat had never dawned on me. But now, it's all I wanted in a day. Our talks were what I looked forward to every day.

Even if I was enjoying myself on duty, my notes of Arthur's health were measly and shameful. I wrote an occasional note on how he was able to talk a bit more clearly than before, or how he didn't cough after each and every phrase. But I hadn't realized was that this was because he was connected to a machine, air pumping through a tube to keep his lungs from failing him like I had.

One day, I recall him asking me, "Alfred… when I get out of here, will you ever visit me again?"

At first I hadn't given this much thought. I answered with a quick yes, my mind made up before he'd finished the sentence. But after a while, I began to wonder; when Arthur left, would I visit him? I had no doubt in my mind that he would make it out, but would he want to see me after this?

Arthur had fallen asleep as I was pondering this, his captivating greens sheathed by his eyelids. I caught myself brushing a loose strand of hair from his face; like most patients, he was kept groomed as best as possible, but his blonde mop always ended up in a choppy state.

Like always, the time had flown right past me. After turning in today's notes and punching out, I left the building with a feeling in my gut. I tried to brush it off as hunger pains, but something within me knew that it was worse. Much, much worse.

Making my way to my porch, I couldn't help but overhear a peculiar sound. I made it a bit of a quest to follow the source, leaving my coat on the steps as I followed the sound. Behind my house was a kitten, the reasoning for its cries being apparent as I caught sight of it. It had tangled with one of my lawn chairs, the legs tucked tight as it held the creature in a headlock. I was quick to react, breaking the poor thing free from the chair's clutches and holding it close. Though as I reflect on it, I should refrain from picking up a stray the next time this occurs.

As I observed the kitten in my arms, I took a few mental notes; it had lopped ears, and patches of orange on its predominantly white fur. But what I took in the most was its eyes. They were green, which caused my thoughts to drift off to someone else that was near and dear to my heart.

After a quick check of the neighborhood to insure that I wasn't stealing anyone's pet, I took the kitten inside and tended to its needs. After this, I tended to my own as I prepared for bed. Despite all of this, I still wasn't able to shake the feeling in my gut. It was almost like it could talk, telling me that things were far from well. But I was naive, and I continued to pretend they were.

The next day was a long one. One that I'd never be able to forget, in fact. I arrived to work the next morning with a new assignment, which could only mean one thing; Arthur had been moved. I poked and prodded at my supervisor for the majority of my morning, until she gave me information that I wish she hadn't.

The second I was given my break, I rushed straight to the area that most aren't in a hurry to visit; hospice. As I've heard others lovingly dub it, it is where patients go to die. Of course it isn't the end, but by God is it close.

I mumbled the room number to myself the whole walk there, hoping and praying that I'd be met with Arthur's smiling face. Instead, the image I saw will haunt me until my dying days. All I could see was the outline of Arthur and his myriad of tubes, all covered in a thin white sheet. The line on the monitor was flat, and if I was set up with one, mine would too.

I don't know how long I stood there until I was ushered away, I truly didn't care. I wanted to know where it had went wrong, how such a lively person could have taken a turn for the worse so abruptly. Little did I know, I'd been deceiving myself the entire time.

I wasn't alarmed to be brought into my supervisor's office. No, I was relieved to see a familiar face. Someone that could give me information as to why he was gone. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror behind her; my blues were bloodshot, and I'd managed to mess up my sandy hair in the short time I'd been on duty. Truly, I was a mess.

"There just wasn't enough information in your notes," she explained to me, her tone showing she was strictly business. "We couldn't find the problems he was having in every day life. You were the only one he'd confide in, but with your notes… it makes it seem as though he was improving. This obviously was not the case."

I couldn't help my tears at this point. I didn't care about my job, about any of this. Knowing that it was my foolishness that caused Arthur his life, it was too much to bear. What stung the most in this meeting was the consequences; revision courses. I'd cost someone their life, and it was almost as if I'd received a pat on the back and was told that I'd "get it next time".

The hospital appeared as though it was a wasteland with knowing that Arthur was gone. I remember when this was normal, when this wouldn't phase me. That was before I'd found a light in this place. This place so void of life that it's hard to believe that living is what we work for.

There are guidelines that you should follow while working in a hospital. The main one being to never, under any circumstances, let your heart get in the way of the care of a patient. I've made this mistake, and it cost the life of one of the kindest men I'd ever meet.


End file.
